


What do you need? Do you need bread?

by twomoredays



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bon Appetit Test Kitchen AU, Established Relationship, Gender Presentation, I like them. Well? I like them, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twomoredays/pseuds/twomoredays
Summary: “Coming to mine?” Travis asks, pulling back to get a look at Patty’s face.Nolan brushes Travis’ hair behind his ears and fixes his hat, trying to focus on anything but the dopey smile he’s getting from him and making his cheeks flush.“Obviously.” He mumbles. “You’ve got my good wine.” His fingers squish at Travis' cheeks in a loving gesture.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 14
Kudos: 185





	What do you need? Do you need bread?

**Author's Note:**

> on all levels except physical nopat is my girlfriend. cheers
> 
> title is an actual lyric from 'puppet' by tyler, the creator and it makes me chuckle a little because it fits pretty well

Travis places his mug into the sink and leans against the counter to peer into the two big metal bowls that take up a majority of the counter space.

“What are you making?”

He’s been out of the kitchen all morning, dawdling around the 67th floor to see Lawson, and then having a brief meeting with A.V. about where he sees himself going next.

Nolan just gives him a look that roughly translates to _not in the mood, _which Travis doesn’t take personally.

To find the answer he’s looking for, he decides to inspect the rest of the counter space, which is left messy and unorganized, only because the cameras are off for the rest of the day. Usually Nolan kept his space clear and structured in a way Travis could never understand, but it was mostly for it to look good on video. Laughton hovers around to grab dirty dishes and failed attempts at whatever Nolan’s making, and takes them to the sink and compost bin before Provy can complain about the shot being fucked up.

He finds a big bottle of olive oil shoved closer to the edge, a half empty carton of eggs, the Tupperware of flour Kevin claims as his own but is always more than willing to share, and the top ripped from a packet of dry yeast. Travis sucks his teeth as he tries to recall what recipe Nolan could be doing.

One bowl is attached to the mixer, whatever inside getting spun around by the hook tool, so Travis can guess it’s a dough in there. A little glass bowl sits by the mixer, cloudy with what Travis assumes is dissolved yeast. Nolan has his hands in the other bowl, kneading another ball of dough, and despite his furrowed brow, he looks relaxed.

It’s always a joy for Travis to see Nolan like this, not totally soft around the edges but softer than he is around the office, visibly at ease as he gets to work out his frustrations through cooking and baking. To enjoy it better, Travis rests his chin in the palm of his hand. Nothing smells good yet, only yeast and flour lingering around and making his nose twitch, but Nolan is nice enough to look at, so he doesn’t complain.

The kitchen is warm because Kevin’s working at the stove, continuously stirring something, but Pat has his hair tied up in a half assed bun Ryanne would be ashamed of, to keep his neck cool. It looks hastily done, so he probably put it up last minute before he got his hands dirty, and a few loose pieces hang down on the back of his neck and in his face.

He motions to the bowl Nolan’s currently working on. "Pasta?”

Nolan hums, nodding. “Kev wanted angel hair, but I think G took the leftovers from Bee’s scampi he made the other day.” He finally lifts his head up from his kneading to look at Travis, not really smiling at him but not totally frowning. Travis smiles back widely. “So I’m making him a batch for lunch.”

Kevin perks up at the sound of his name, looking away from the pot he’s got going so he can make his way over. “Isn’t he just the sweetest?” He grins, knocking Nolan’s shoulder with his elbow as he passes by. “My own personal chef! Makes me pasta and shit.”

“You could make it yourself.” Nolan mumbles, making Travis laugh. “_Y__ou’re _a chef too.”

“Nah,” Kevin bumps hips with Travis and grins wide at him. “I’m more of a meat guy. I’m good with meats.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are, bud.” Travis lets Kevin kick him in the leg, because it’s only fair for a joke like that, and even Nolan snorts out a laugh. “Big meat guy over here.”

Kevin makes his way around the counter, bringing his coffee along with him and plops himself down where Scott usually sits, the top of his head just barely peeking up from behind the marble. He seems pretty content as he pulls his phone from the pocket on his apron, so Travis turns his attention back to Nolan, who’s moved on to the other bowl he left to rest. 

“What are you looking at?” Nolan asks without glancing up.

Travis shrugs. He looks over to the bowl of pasta dough. “Is there gonna be enough for me?” He asks, hopeful.

Nolan gives him another look as he stops the mixer. “You wish.” 

Giving a pout, Travis drags his finger through a pile of flour closest to him. “_Please? _I haven’t had lunch today.”

“That’s very much a _ you _problem, big guy.” He watches Nolan as he pours the yeast from the glass bowl into the bigger metal bowl. 

“You are,” Travis tilts his head to get a better look at Nolan, giving him a dopey half smile because he’s already over it. “_So _bad to me, y’know that? Did you know that you’re bad to me, Pat?” 

“Don’t you have shit to do?” Nolan asks as he pushes loose strands of hair out of his face, using his arm because his hands are still covered in dough and flour. He turns the mixer back on to work the yeast into the rest of the dough. “Fruits to rot?”

Kevin, apparently tuned back in now, reacts for Travis, swallowing his giant swing of coffee way too fast in favour of sputtering out incoherent noises that draws attention from all the way across the kitchen, and holds out a hand to stop Nolan.

“Hey!” Tone scandalized, Kevin reaches over and sets his tumbler onto the countertop that isn’t caked with flour, standing up from the milk crate he’s deemed a good enough chair, even though it’s hell on the knees. “Respect the fermentation process, Patty! Bacteria works hard to provide for you, and this is how you treat it?”

“I don’t, like, give a shit, Kev.” His hands are starting to feel more like dough than skin, so Nolan maneuvers around the displeased Hayes so he can get to the sink, conveniently located right beside Travis’ chillaxing spot. “No offence.”

“Doesn’t make it any less offensive, Pats.” Travis says in a softer voice. He leans back on his elbows as he watches Nolan scrub dough out from under his nails with the tropical scented soap Carter brought from home. “Plus you drink kombucha on, like, a fuckin’ daily, so you _ should _pay your respects.”

“I don’t drink that stuff.” 

“Uh, _ yeah_, you do.” Travis snorts. 

Nolan just makes a face.

“Every morning, Hartsy and Beezer give you something to drink because they’re overgrown interns at heart. It used to be protein shakes when you were a fuckin’ twig, but now they give you kombucha to sip on because they worry that you’d live like a goddamn Ninja Turtle without them; have you seriously never fucking asked what they’re shoving down your throat?” Travis pauses to give Nolan a very serious look.

“_Nols, _ they could be poisoning you_._” He says it like Carter and Joel are villainous masterminds, instead of a baby faced pastry chef in training and a budding SoundCloud rapper who can cook occasionally. 

There’s a pause before Nolan turns off the tap. “Ninja Turtle?” He asks, looking at Travis from the corner of his eye.

“No nutrients or water, just toxic waste, sludge, and pizza.” 

“I drink water.” Nolan grumbles. He steals the towel Travis grabbed on the way in and draped across his shoulder, and starts drying up his wrists. 

Kevin is leaning forward to poke at the scraps of dough that’s been left behind, and he’s already over Nolan’s fermentation comment. “You do _ not._” He adds without even looking away, drawing a smiley face in the leftover flour. 

“Exactly.” Travis motions to Kevin’s general area even though he’s getting a pretty mean stare from Patty. “Roommate verified.” 

“Mhm.” Nolan doesn’t actually roll his eyes but Travis can imagine him doing it.

Kevin mumbles some nonsense to himself as he wipes his hands on his apron, leaving streaks of flour across it. He dawdles around for a second before he seems to remember he’s got things in the oven and on the stove, so he makes his way across the kitchen to resume his position at the burner. It leaves Nolan and Travis more alone than they’ve been since getting to work that morning.

“You’re mean.” Travis reiterates. He lets out a laugh when Nolan hits him with the damp towel, and crowds him up against the counter with a dumb smile. “So incredibly mean to your perfect and innocent boyfriend.”

"You're ridiculous," Nolan rolls his eyes, huffing out a laugh that’s more just a sharp exhale through his nose. “I would never be mean to Nico.” 

“_Oh!”_ A wounded noise sounds through the kitchen but doesn’t attract any attention because it comes from Travis. He thuds his head against Nolan’s collarbone, ignoring how he knocks his forehead into his chin, and slumps his weight onto him in defeat. “Critical hit.”

A little laugh rumbles through Nolan, and he rests his chin in the crown of Travis’ head. He should be getting back to his dough so it doesn’t get over worked but he’s comfortable like this, with Travis plastered against him and keeping him almost too warm in the heat of the kitchen. He can afford to stay a few more minutes.

“Hey,” Nolan rubs his hands against Travis’ arms, stopping to squeeze his biceps lightly. “Guess what?”

“Mm?”

He turns his head so he can press his face into Travis’ hair, knocking his hat slightly askew. “I’m making focaccia.” He mumbles, voice rattling around in Travis’ skull because he’s so close to his ear.

“Oh my _ God_,” Travis pretty much moans, hands coming up to squeeze Nolan’s hips before wrapping his arms around his waist to pull him into a tight hug. “And you’re bringing it home?” Voice hopeful again.

Nolan rests his arms on Travis’ shoulders, hands coming together behind his neck to circle it loosely. “If you help me with it, I’m sure I can sneak a portion of it out the door.” He smiles when Travis squeezes him tight once more.

“Coming to mine?” Travis asks, pulling back to get a look at Patty’s face. 

Nolan brushes Travis’ hair behind his ears and fixes his hat, trying to focus on anything but the dopey smile he’s getting from him and making his cheeks flush. 

“Obviously.” He mumbles. “You’ve got my good wine, and if we go to my place you’re going to have to fight Haysie on the focaccia, dude is an animal with that shit.” His fingers brush at the sad attempt of a beard Travis’ got going, and he squishes at his cheeks in a loving gesture.

Travis hums and leans into the touch, loving the sweet smell of the soap and warmth from Nolan’s hands. “Need me right now?” He asks in a mellowed out tone, eyes lazy as Nolan rubs behind his ears.

Smoothing out the baby hairs on Travis’ neck, Nolan presses a kiss to his forehead. “I always need you, dumbass.” 

Travis starts cheesing. “Gross.”

“I’m still working with the dough, so come back in, like, ten and then you can take over.” Nolan says into Travis’ skin. “You don’t have anything right now, and Kev and I are doing a video soon so I won’t be able to hover like I normally do.”

Trying not to preen about Nolan knowing his schedule, Travis nods. “Whatcha doing?”

“He’s making shrimp to go with the angel hair and Provy wants me to, like, watch or whatever.” Nolan shrugs and fusses with the collar on Travis’ shirt. “He says I just have to sit and look pretty for the most part, because people like videos with the two of us.”

“You’re good at looking pretty.”

“Thanks, Teeks,” Nolan genuinely smiles, cheeks pink. 

“You still gotta finish the pasta, yeah?” Travis asks as they start the separating process, limbs untangling. 

Nolan heaves out a dramatic sigh and pushes back the flyaways that escaped from his bun, getting back into the cooking state of mind. “Yeah, yeah, unfortunately.” He rubs at his eyes before dropping his hands to lean back on the counter. 

Travis reaches forward and fixes one of Nolan’s earrings that went crooked, easing it back to where it’s supposed to hang. “I’ll be around, ‘kay? I have to check my emails and shit so just text when you need me.” He rubs a thumb across Nolan’s cheek with a dumb smile. 

“Mhm,” Nodding, Nolan rubs at his face and eyes. “I’ll holler. Or Kev will. Either way, you’ll know when to come.”

“See ya in a bit, Patty dearest.” 

Travis snatches his towel from where Nolan abandoned it on the counter, and makes his way to the counter closer to the entryway, where Carter and Joel look to be scheming _ something _Travis doesn’t plan on being on the receiving end of. 

He hums a little tune as he goes along.

⚘

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Travis nudges his way between the two young guys to get a look at what they're doing. “The fuck is this?”

“We made G something to drink.” Carter rattles a half full mason jar and cracks a big smile. Joel mirrors it. 

“Huh,” Travis considers his options here. The ‘drink’ doesn’t look quite right, so it’s definitely not the shit they fuel Patty with. He kisses his teeth and shakes his head. “That's pretty sick, guys.”

Maybe they _are _more like villainous masterminds than people give them credit for. He claps them both on the back and continues back on his way to the dough Nolan’s left out for him.

“It’s your funeral!” Travis calls over his shoulder.

⚘

Travis thinks cooking shit for work is fun, how could he not? But cooking at home, with Patty, is ten times better. Mostly because they don’t have to worry about being too embarrassing in front of their coworkers. 

“How’d you get so dressed up in the last hour I didn’t see you?” Travis laughs as he ropes Nolan into a loose hug, tilting his head up to kiss at his jaw. “Is it date night and I didn’t know?”

“Stop, ‘s not fancy.” Nolan smiles. 

Travis makes a noise to refute that point, and scratches his beard against Nolan’s skin just to hear him grumble. “A skirt is _much _more fancy than those ugly as hell shorts you had on in the kitchen.” He argues.

“Piss off, jackass, those were your shorts.” Nolan pushes Travis away in order to move across the kitchen, hands finding the drawer he needs with practiced ease. “This isn’t even a nice skirt, I just had it in my bag.”

Leaning against the kitchen island, Travis considers the statement. The skirt isn’t, like, a _super _fancy skirt, not expensive either, which Travis knows because he was there when Nolan bought it. Travis still likes it though, he likes the way it flows just below Patty’s knees, and the colour of it is nice too. A calm blue that he doesn’t usually wear.

“Where the fuck is your cheese knife?” Nolan complains, making enough noise rummaging through the cutlery drawer to draw Travis out of his thoughts. Heidi, the cat, circles around Nolan’s ankles because she apparently loves annoying noises that could make Travis’ ears bleed.

Pushing himself off the counter, Travis joins Nolan to peer into the drawer. “Did you not take it to your place literally two days ago?” 

“I have my own fucking cheese knives, thanks, I don’t need _ yours_.” 

“Okay, well, first of all,” Travis digs his fingers in Nolan’s ribs to make him jerk away and make room for him to get a good look in the drawer. “You were gushing about how cute mine were and how ‘_oh Kev would fuckin’ love these'_, so I’m pretty fuckin’ sure you took them home.”

After lifting a few things just to be thorough, Travis gives up, “It’s probably in _ your _drawer, jackass.” 

Nolan huffs, brushing his hair out of his face. “Whatever.” His bun from earlier fell out a few hours ago, so now his hair hangs loose around his face and shoulders. Since he’s let it grow out, it makes him look softer, smoothing his edges more, and giving him a gentle effect.

It’s easy for Travis to brush things off, so he does. He closes the drawer with his hip and turns to smile at Nolan. 

“Hi.” He greets.

“C’mere,” Nolan leans back against the island and holds his arms open for Travis. “Hug me.”

Travis obliges, closing the distance between the two in a few short strides and wrapping his arms around Nolan’s waist. He rests his head on his shoulder and melts when Nolan scratches his nails against his back. 

“You good, bud?” He asks, kissing Travis’ temple. 

“Better now that we’re home.” Travis admits. He melts against Nolan’s chest more as he starts to trace shapes into his back.

Normally they’d already be retired to the couch because they’ve spent a majority of their day on their feet, but today they choose to linger around the kitchen for a bit longer. Travis opened the wine a few minutes after they got in the door and now their drinks sit by the sink, Nolan’s in the one actual wine glass Travis owns, and Travis’ in the mug Carter made at his drunk pottery class. They’re lucky Heidi isn’t too adventurous and hates jumping up on the counter, because she could definitely be a big boozer with how many drinks they leave unattended. 

“I love you.” Travis mumbles, like he always does after the sun starts to go down. 

“I know.” Nolan mumbles back, chest rumbling under Travis’ ear. Heidi bumps her face against his calves, tail swishing the loose fabric of his skirt. He’s got a soft smile on his face.

⚘

“She knows something we don’t.” Nolan whispers.

“Should we get her those button systems, with the words and shit?” Travis whispers back.

They both stare at Heidi as she paces strangely around the kitchen, not stepping on a certain few tiles on every lap back and forth. Nolan sits on the toilet lid as he repaints his nails and Travis sits up on the bathroom counter to keep him company. Their wine rests on either side of Travis’ ornamental _ thing _ he keeps on the toilet tank. 

(The _t__hing _is furry, orange, and has huge eyes. Nolan, shockingly, loves it more than Travis ever imagined he would. He’s affectionately named it Gritty.)

“That’d be too freaky, Trav, imagine hearing that shit in the middle of the night?” Nolan counters.

“Fair.” Travis admits.

They fall silent as Heidi stops in the middle of her lap, turns to their direction, twitches her tail, and just _ stares _with her big, haunting, mismatched eyes.

⚘

Nolan reaches behind the couch and comes back with a box wrapped in brown postal paper, and delicately tied up with string. Travis rolls his head to see what Pat’s doing, and starts smiling when he sees the box. 

The TV is on a low volume at the front of the room, playing some show Nolan would never watch if not for Travis. He’s got his head in Nolan’s lap, cheek pressed into his thigh, and his hand hangs off the edge of the couch and brushes the floor, right in Heidi’s attack zone. The skirt disappeared about an hour ago, when Travis’ complained the fabric made his face hurt, so Nolan sits in the rainbow striped boxers Claude bought him when he came out.

“Is that what I think it is?” He asks, moving his hand from where it was trapped in Heidi’s jaws and claws.

“If you’re thinking a fuck ton of gluten in a box, then yes.” Depositing the box onto Travis’ belly, Nolan reaches back again and reveals a fork he most likely stole from the kitchen at work. “It _is _ what you think it is.” 

“You are literally the best partner a fella could ask for.” Travis lays the southern drawl on thick, treading on the fine line between sweet and corny, and Nolan snorts at him.

Running his fingers over the soft line of Travis’ jaw, Nolan gives him a weirdly soft look. “Don’t say that shit, Trav.” He detangles a few knots from hair splayed across his lap with gentle fingers.

“Why?” Travis lifts his head which gives Nolan an unflattering angle of his chin, and furrows his brow. His fingers work on untying the small knot Nolan made to secure the string. “You’re, like, my partner, yeah?”

That gets a halfhearted shrug from Nolan, and he’s more looking at his fingers in Travis’ hair than combing through. “Dunno. Could just say boyfriend so it’s easier for you.” He stares at the black of his smudged nail polish and ignores the way Travis frowns at him. “Not as many questions and shit.”

“Nols, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter how it affects me.” He abandons his task at hand to gently touch Nolan’s cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb under the soft skin of his eye. “It’s about you, always, babe.”

“Corny as shit, little fucker.” Nolan grumbles. He soothes the hair by Travis’ temples and lets out a huff, not quite frustrated but more embarrassed. His eyes and touch are still soft. “Can’t just say shit like that.”

“Oh but I _ can_.” Travis grins a little. “But seriously, I don’t give a shit about any questions. I’ll answer them or I won’t, and anyone who gives too much of a shit can fuck right off.”

“You sure know how to make a girl swoon, Teeks.” Nolan smiles, small and barely there, but Travis still catches it. Smiles like those are specifically reserved for Travis these days, delicate and precious like a butterflies wing. 

“It’s my specialty,” Travis turns his head slightly, pressing his face into Nolan’s hand and kissing his palm softly. “What do you wanna be called though, like, actually? Do you just not vibe with partner?”

Nolan swipes his thumb across Travis’ cheekbone and hums in thought. 

“Partner isn’t, like, bad, but it feels weird for me personally.” He admits. “I don’t like boyfriend for, y’know, obvious reasons.”

“What about girlfriend?” Travis asks softly. 

It’s only been a handful of weeks since they officially got together, but it feels like months with the way time bleeds together. Travis has barely scratched the surface of the whole gender thing, Patty coming out a week before the two of them kissed for the first time, so he tries his hardest to be considerate with his questions. The good thing is he’s more than eager to learn, soaking up more information than Nolan even really knows himself.

“Never really thought about it.” He says, which doesn’t seem like a lie. His pink cheeks and ears undermine the nonchalant tone he’s aiming for. “But it’s not… _ bad_.” 

Travis nods and gives Nolan’s hand another kiss. “I’ll keep that one in my back pocket then.”

With that sorted and done with, Travis goes back to working on getting the box with his food open. Nolan watches him struggle against the tiny knot with a light smile on his face. Heidi struggles her way onto the couch to rest underneath where Travis has his knee slightly bent off the leather, settling in nicely even though she’ll have to move when Travis inevitably shifts.

He gets it untied after several failed attempts and cheers quietly, pumping his fists in the air to make Nolan laugh and succeeding, getting a light giggle from him. It takes little time to get the paper wrapping off and he lets it fall to the floor.

“Oh _ Nolan_,” Travis’ voice is so full of wonder you’d think Patty just proposed. “You didn’t.”

Nolan actually laughs at Travis’ theatrics, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Heidi raises her head at the sound and her ear twitches quizzically.

“Bud, it’s just pasta.” He grins, nudging at Travis’ ribs.

“But _ you _made it!” 

“I had some extra dough,” Nolan shrugs. “I knew you wanted some, so I finished it off.”

“You are,” Sitting himself up and bothering Heidi, Travis cups Nolan’s cheek in one hand. His skin is calloused and worn from countless cooking burns and accidental cuts, it’s a funny contrast to the smooth skin of Nolan’s skin. “_So _good to me, y’know that? Did you know that you’re good to me, Pat? Making me bread _ and _pasta.”

Nolan tilts his head to look at Travis better, giving him a small, dumb smile. “I have my moments.”

“I love you.” Travis mumbles, leaning in close so their noses touch.

“Mm,” Nolan hums. “I know.”

With more than a few slices of bread, a generous pile of pasta, and a cat in his lap, Travis presses forward to give Nolan a gentle kiss. Nolan lets his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt, to get a better angle, and he feels butterflies in his belly. 

This is good for them. Travis loves the bread, loves the pasta, but more importantly. He loves Nolan.

⚘

The sun is just barely peeking above the horizon and yet Nolan is already awake. He rubs a gentle thumb against the sleep warm skin of Travis’ cheek, taking a good look at his boyfriend sleeping while he props himself up on his elbow. Heidi sleeps on the small of Travis’ back and looks quite comfortable there, only illuminated by a few stray rays of the newborn sunlight.

“I love you.” Nolan whispers, soft. The words are new, still clunky and foreign in his mouth, but Nolan's pretty sure he can get used to them. 

He doesn’t remember if Travis was smiling softly a minute ago, but he definitely is now. 

Nolan glances at the clock over Travis’ shoulder and lets out a yawn, something in his jaw popping. He’s still good to sleep for a few hours. He rolls over to face away from Travis, but reaches back to guide his boyfriend’s arm to drape across his waist.

This is really good for them. Travis loves Nolan, but just as importantly. Nolan loves Travis.


End file.
